Crimson Tide
by LadyMithrellas
Summary: When unjustice is law, rebellion is duty. Kyiaria, head assassin of Advent Vortex 72, is faced with the problem of Shinra's fading lifestream, but also with having to make a decision between a wealthy prince, Marius, and the mysterious Vincent Valentine.


Summary: Vincent runs into an old friend in the forest of the Ancient City.

Timeline: Before the return of Sephiroth. AC movie-based.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of FF except for my people, weapons, and places.

* * *

I stared at the red-cloaked man in front of me, mentally scolding myself for even holding onto the memory of so long ago. He stared back, half angry, half grieved. We both knew what was to come. It wasn't my fault, nor was it his, but I knew we both blamed ourselves for the position that we were both in. It was hard to believe that it was only three years ago that the planet was healthy, living, green, and prosperous. Now it was a barren wasteland fit for naught but war.

Jamar, a dark olive man with an IQ in the quadruple digits and a weight in the triple digits (half due to the metal framework that constituted as the left side of his body), stepped up to me from the ranks behind; all was still save for the movement of his heavy body on the arid soil.

"Sergeant Rein, we must act now. The Lucra army is on the move. They'll be within a half a day's march. We must – "

"I know what must be done, Jamar, thank you," I replied with an icier tone then intended; my second in second sighed warily and fell back into line. I hadn't dared look away from the beautiful monster that stood mere feet from me, his dirty cherry cloak swaying in the breeze, his deep crimson eyes locked on mine. It was hard to look away from the orbs that had once held life – beautiful, loving _life._ At the same time, it was hard _not_ to look away. His glare was icy and his posture stubborn and unmoving; he had no intention of backing down, even if it was one against one-thousand.

"Please move, Vincent." I finally spoke barely audible, even to myself, but he could here me as easily as if I had screamed my lungs out. I looked down, breaking, falling apart. I felt him stiffen, as far as he was from me; I'd never backed down first. That's what had made us so inseperable all those years ago – our competition.

"No," he said clearly, his deep voice sending shockwaves down my spine; I tried to conceal it without success.

I looked up once more and gasped; his face was inches from my own. He was breathing slowly and unsteadily; he was breaking inside just as I was. This was a fight neither one of us would win; a fight neither of us would forfeit.

His breath was cool on my lips – almost unbearable, but I stood stock still. "The day you said goodbye you left me in pieces – "

"Vincent, no – " His forefinger laid gently but strong on my lips.

"And you know that," he continued. "But I'm all fixed up – thanks to you and Sephiroth." His sickening, sanctified smile faded just a little; he leaned even closer, his warm luscious lips within reach. "So demolish me if you must. I'll die a happy man."

"LIES!" I roared, throwing myself onto him, slamming him into a nearby tree. I pulled my splinter sword from its sheath strapped to my back, but he grabbed it from me with ease, swinging me around roughly and pinning me to the tree.

"You always did like it rough," I gasped, wincing when his body crashed against my bruised ribs. For a spilt second, he'd looked as if he'd wanted something, something more – anything.

"Then it's too bad you didn't kill me when you had the chance," he replied coldly.

My eyes widened and my mind drifted to the most resent memory of Vincent and I. I had been under Sephiroth's control for a short period and one of my orders was to eliminate any threats. Vincent was at the top of my list since it was he who had tried to destroy Sephiroth as an unborn. I could nothing but follow orders – my mind was completely his – I had no way to not go through with the plan.

In my failure to kill Vincent, I not only lost his love, but my friends and Sephiroth as well. I was an outsider to all. That was until I made up for my actions by aiding Cloud in Sephiroth's defeat; I was never able to explain to Vincent the reasoning behind my actions, for he had left merely three days after Cloud's victory.

"Well I guess that's it then." I was brought back to the present when I realized that Vincent had been pulled off of me and was now barely conscious on the parched earth groaning in pain, surrounded by nearly fifty men brandishing weapons of all sorts. "Where to, Sarge?" Jamar asked me eagerly.

I pondered this question quickly and really without much thought, staring down coldly at the man I once loved; if I thought but for a second, I'd do something I'd regret. His eyes were weak, but still full of emotion. He glared up at me with resentment, but I emptied myself of everything I knew. I was empty without him, therefore it was easy. There was no more us – no more mystery, no more happiness – no more anything.

"Leave the prisoner be. Release him. He is no use to me now." I risked a glanced at his eyes and watched them fill with incredulity, but I looked away as soon as I could. I could barely see him, let only speak his name.

I heard another reluctant sigh from Jamar, but he followed my order. "We move out in three minutes. I want the ranks reassembled in less than one. You're not in squad formation in T-Minus one minute you're left behind."

As gracefully as I could muster, I sauntered from _him_ without so much as a glimpse or word.

"Kyiaria," I heard _him_ whisper...


End file.
